


The Pureblood Mudblood Muggle

by Ravenclaw_Peredhel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, But her sister is a fucking Gryffindor, Do not fail me now Lily, Do you know how hard it is to keep a Gryffindor alive, Don't die in the next five minutes, Especially in a war, Especially with all the shit in her life, F/M, Good Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Good Regulus Black, I spent two decades building up to this monent, Ianthe is so done, It's fucking impossible, JUST, James Potter Bashing, James Potter Lives, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape Friendship, Lily Evans Potter Bashing, Lily Evans Potter Lives, Looking at you Lily, Original Character-centric, Orion Black is a good parent, POV Original Character, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Lily Evans Potter, Regulus Black Lives, Sane Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Self-Insert, She's just trying to keep her sister alive, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting, When he's around, Young Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Young Narcissa Black Malfoy, Young Regulus Black, Young Sirius Black, but with an oc, please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Peredhel/pseuds/Ravenclaw_Peredhel
Summary: Cathy Holt was perfectly happy with her life, thank you very much. She is studying to be a surgeon, has a nice steady relationship going and is living quite happily.Then she dies, hit by a car. The end.Of course, that isn't what happened. Instead, she wakes up as a baby. And her older sister is some snotty kid called Petunia Evans...wait a minute. Little Petunia Dursley?Oh she is so screwed
Relationships: Eventually - Relationship, Lucius Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 89
Kudos: 342





	1. Death Is Not The End (Apparently)

**Author's Note:**

> Oops posted accidentally, is definetly still in progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild swearing

"She's so ugly. I want a different one Mama, one that's pretty."

"Petunia Violetta Evans! Leave your baby sister alone. You cannot exchange her or get rid of her in any way so you will just have to get used to her. I don't know why you have such a problem with her, but she is your sister and part of your family, so if you are determined not to love her at least be civil towards her until you do." 

What the hell? Yeah that was pretty much my first thought in my second life. Of course, it took a while to realise that. And then some.

See, I didn't actually realise that I was dead for about a week. Probably because I literally felt nothing and just thought I blacked out and was having a weird dream. Then I remembered the car that hit me and realised that I was dead. Yeah, biggest tantrum they ever saw from me. Thank goodness they chalked it up to me being a baby. Oh hold up, I haven't even introduced my self yet have I?

Okay, rewind. My name is ( _was_ ) Cathy Holt. I was training to be a surgeon, had a lovely boyfriend blah blah blah. Perfect life. If I'm going to be honest, it was fucking boring. Boring sex, boring uni course, boring kissing, boring pizza, boring family, boring boyfriend, boring life. The only interesting thing in my life was my books. Specifically fantasy books. Like Harry Potter. Yeah I know, typical cliche self-insert fanfic. I read my fair share of those. OC gets killed, is reborn as someone fabululously powerful and beautiful and related to a main character, changes the Wizarding World according to their whim, ends up with the person of their dreams. All I can say is, they forgot to mention how bloody boring being a baby is. And a toddler and a child. I'm a trainee surgeon, with under-graduate degrees in music, medieval history and english literature, I was a bloody genius. Almost. No matter my degree of intelligence, going from a mentally fulfilling, not really, uni course to lying in a cot for hours is not fun for anyone. Like, at all. 

Anyway, back to the screwed up events from my clichè shitty fanfiction life. And my _wonderful_ new older sister. 

"But she's so ugly and doesn't do anything. It wouldn't be that hard just to get rid of her Mum." Yep, that's her. Whiny high-pitched voice, blue eyes, blond hair and a neck the size of a giraffe. I might be slightly biased against the six year old who is constantly advocating for my removal from the face of the earth. 

"Petunia! Go to your room at once! You can return when you are no longer plotting for your sister's murder." That's my new mum. Cadmia Evans neè Verl. She's quite scary sometimes and fiercely protective of her children, even when it's against one of them. I heard my new dad say that she's like an elf from Tolkien, with her red hair and pale skin and how beautiful she is. I think she's more like an avenging angel, with how her hair is like blood and her skin like bone and her eyes like how I imagine the Killing Curse. I love her.

"Cadmia, calm down. Tunia's just jealous, she'll settle down soon enough." And there is the last member of my new family. My dad, Pluto Marius Evans. Mum says he's like a Numenorean (yeah my new parents are obsessed with Middle Earth) and I'm just wondering why Petunia looks so little like my parents. Well, my dad has blond hair like his dad, but he has silver eyes like his mum and a whole different air to his sulky oldest daughter. I'm biased towards the parents who love me and against the sister who loathes me, I'm a horrible person.

I don't know what I look like though, so that's a mystery to be solved in the next few days. Have I told you my new name? I don't think I have. Sorry, at least I have better manners than most babies. My new name is Ianthe (short for Iolanthe, because my mum's family has certain names that they are given) Venus (my dad's family loves planets and stuff, well from his mum's side that is) Evans. Eight months, one week, four days and seven hours old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got several references to different things within the Potterverse in there, mainly hinted at in the names. Comment if you find one. :)


	2. The Calm Before the Storm

Hi, me again. Ianthe, I was here last chapter? No? Well, I'm not saying all that shit again, go and read the last one.

Anyway, moving on. I'm finally old enough to legitimately be smart without being an obvious genius (too much work) and it is such a relief. I'm ten and Petunia is sixteen and I have a sister eleven months younger than me called Lily. Lily Evans. Yeah, that was what tipped me off, second biggest tantrum of all time when I realised that I was in fucking Harry Potter. Then another one when I realised that my baby sister was going to die when she was 21. Poor mum and dad could not work out for the life of them why I threw two tantrums in such quick sucession when I met my sister. Petunia would have been understandable, even at the age of seven (bitch) but I was the calm serious baby that never cried. 

Moving on. Lils and I are in the same year at school, her birthday being in early August and mine in mid-September. So we're basically twins. Clichè Self-Insert fanfic life achieved. I'm a beautiful clever witch related to main characters in the story, the main character in fact, so yeah, I'm officially in one of those shitty Mary-Sue-esque self-insert fanfictions. I sulked for two days when I realised that. 

Time goes very slowly when you are little, but I think that it is because each second is a larger fraction of your life when you are four than when you are twenty-four. Which is why time flies for me and creeps for Lily. Ninety-percent of my time from ages eight months to nine years was spent plotting ~~murder and world domination~~ the triumph of all things good and pure and the advocation of the rights of puppies...fuck it, who am I kidding. I'm gonna fucking murder Voldemort and be Minister for Magic or some such powerful shit because I know so much about this magic shit already and I am not going to let that snake-faced bastard touch anything that is mine. Ever. He so much as thinks about hurting _my_ baby sister and he is drinking his own nightmare locket-guarding potion as fast as I can force it down his throat and then I am Crucioing him until his brain fucking shuts down and he dies, and then I'll resurrect him using his Horcruxes and **Do. It. All. Again. And. Again**. Don't look at me like that. I'm protective and possessive and slightly unbalanced, but I'm not evil. Much. Just...morally challenged.

"Ianthe! Come to the park with me! Petunia won't come, and I'm bored." Lily was whining again, tugging at my sister's hand as she pulled me along, not waiting for my reply. I couldn't help smiling at Lily, because Lily was so small and happy and young and innocent, and she was adorable. 

Of course, in my head is always the constant clock ticking down the time when our golden childhood will end and magic will step in. The hourglass is almost out of sand.

**************

The two girls were practically identical, yet it was almost impossible to get them confused. They were just so different. Both were tall for their age, with creamy skin, delicate features, wavy silken red hair and huge green eyes as well as being popular, intelligent, funny and practically inseperable. You would think that would make them impossible to tell apart, but somehow it wasn't. Where Lily was soft and still childlike, Ianthe was lithe and maturing faster thanks to her obsession with fitness and martial arts (excuse her if she wanted to survive two bloody wars). Lily's hair was auburn, a burnished copper color like autumn leaves reaching to her elbows, while Ianthe's was red, a deep, vibrant colour, the exact same colour as blood, falling to just above her knees in a waterfall of crimson silk (until the Hogwarts letters came or they met Snape, she couldn't go to Diagon Alley and some fanfictions said something about hair containing magic and cutting it weakened magic and she was not taking any risks). Lily's eyes were like grass and leaves and the green of growing things and life, while Ianthe's were cold, a bright, ever-shifting, almost unreal emerald green, like the colour of death (after all, life and death were part of the same everlasting cycle, why couldn't they be two shades of the same colour). 

They were rather well-known in their neighbourhood, the beautiful sisters, daughters of the Evanses the rich folks from the city, the twins who were not twins, the identical girls who were so very different. Of course, no one ever mentioned Petunia. She was the 'other Evans sister' the plain, talentless, bad-tempered older child. Poor Petunia. She was clever and pretty enough (Ianthe was biased after all) but her light was dimmed next to the brilliance of the two younger girls, the brilliant, beautiful, sunny not-twins. No one ever remembered Petunia except her parents, and she resented it. 

Of course, Ianthe, for all her maturity missed this, too focused on protecting her baby sister.


	3. Snape, Snape, Severus Snape

"Holy fuck, how old am I?" Was my first sentence to Severus Snape. Laugh all you want, but I was so busy planning decades into the future that I forgot that Snape turned up the year before Lils and I went to Hogwarts. Yeah, it was kinda embarassing. He thought I was mentally challenged afterwards. Until I opened my mouth five minutes later.

For someone who took the quiz like a dozen times and got Ravenclaw or Slytherin **every. single. time.** I'm rather dumb sometimes. For now, I'm blaming it on mental immaturity. Physically, I'm ten, and my brain chemistry is the same, and there is nothing I can do about it. It's maddening. 

Anyway, after our rocky start, we became very good friends with Snape, though I occasionally called him Snivellus as a friendly joke to get him used to it before the damn Marauders. No matter that they were eleven when they started, the fact remains that Lupin the 'nice one' said casually that James Potter didn't hex Snape on dates in front of Lily. Implying that he still hexed him - at seventeen. So much for maturity. I never liked Snape that much either, there are way better ways to maintain a cover than child abuse. But he's ten now, and he was Lils best friend for years and so I'm giving him a chance. It's nice actually, he's got a very dry sense of humour and he's a genius. He, Lils and I are the original Golden Trio (except we can't be because at least one of us will be in Slytherin). Eileen Prince is probably one of my favourite people ever. Not as a character from the book, but in real life. She's so nice and kind and (dare I say it) sweet. I can see now why she never left Tobias. There's something about her that makes her, not exactly weak, but less willing to hurt those she loves, and if she has us protecting Sevvy then it is easier for her to stay with Tobias, because for some reason she still loves the asshole. If it were up to me, he would have been dead years ago, but he's not. I think that Eileen's 'inner circle' if you will, is her weakness. She literally can't hurt them. Not magically or phyiscally, but she has wired it into her brain, and unfortunately her shitty abusive husband is still part of her circle. Dick. Not Eileen, fucking Tobias Snape. 

Lils and I met Severus Snape one morning on the 24th August 1970. It was still warm, so Mum let us grab light cardigans and go to the park while Petunia studied. How the bitch managed to hold a grudge against me and Lils for a decade because we weren't pretty enough when we were born was beyond me. Mum and Dad are the best parents in the entire universe, but somehow they had fucking Petunia.

Anyway, back to the story. We were swinging as normal, and no one was there, or so we thought. So Lils jumped off. It was rather pitiful by our standards and I said so. "Then do better yourself Ianthe! Bet you can't!"

"Can too! You're just jealous!" Never let it be said that the Evans (Verl) temper skipped either of us by. I swung to high that I was almost more than horizontal (thank you magic). before jumping off and continuing the arc to the top of the nearby oak tree, then plunging so fast that Lils let out a terrified shriek, stopping just before the ground and stepping lightly onto it as if I had stopped the swing rather than leaping about four metres into the air off of it. Lils rolled her eyes.

"Your just cheating."

"Can't cheat, its magic." Lily rolled her eyes, unable to retort to my, admittedly childish, reply. It was very airtight, if simple. 

Then there was a rustle and a little boy the same age as us (well, a little older than Lily and a little younger than me) stepped from behind the bushes. He had a long black coat and a white blouse, rather ill-fitting, with sallow skin and greasy black hair. His thin face was alight with delight.

"Your magic too! You're witches aren't you!"

My reply...wasn't the most intelligent.

*********************

Hello? Are you still there? Yeah sorry, connection was kinda bad. Anyway, where was I? 

Oh yeah. Sevvie's entrance into our life. Yeah, I think I've covered everything. Mum and Dad basically adopted him and Eileen, Petunia hates them both, thinks their freaks. 

All this though, is just leading into the next big thing- Minnie McG.

My birthday was the 21st of September, and I turned eleven several weeks after meeting Severus Snape. I had cake, and presents and happy birthday songs and sulks from Petunia. All in all, a pretty normal birthday. It was the day after that was unusual. Knowing that McGonagall would show up anytime in the next week or so, I was up and dressed way before I normally was. We were all eating breakfast and chatting and whatnot, and then there was a sharp knock on the door. Dad opened it and then called us into the living room. 

Grams took one look at Minerva McGonagall and went white as a sheet. Yeah, my dad's mum lives with us. She was really beautiful when she was younger, with jet black curly hair, silver eyes and proud carven features. Actually, she still is. Her hair is just white. Dad and Mum freaked out and Lils, Petunia and I were just sitting there wondering whay the heck was going on. Everything settled down eventually, and then the professor gave me my letter along with the explanation that magic existed. I'm ninety percent certain that she didn't excpect me and Lils nodding and moving on. I mean, Sevvie and Eileen had already told us all about magic so. 

What no one expected was Grams reaction...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the evanses are related to two pureblood families, hints are in the names throughout the story.  
> comment if you have worked out one or both of them ;)  
> Sorry, its rather short


	4. Ooh Time Skips, Ooh Insanity, Ooh Money, Ooh So Much Stuff That Makes No Sense

"My granddaughters have magic." Grams voice was shaking, whether with fear or rage or joy, no one could tell. McGonagall nodded sharply, obviously wary of a bad reaction. Then Grams stood up, and did something that no one had expected. She grabbed Lils and me into a hug, and burst into tears. 

Hold up, I need to say that again. My stately, never-ruffled, ever-dignified Grams hugged Lils and I _in front a stranger and cried_. Cried, in front of a strange witch. I'm pretty sure that the world shook to its core at that moment. Grams is lovely and awesome yes, but she's always been a bit distant and regal. Now, she was hugging us, in front of a stranger and crying openly. In front of a stranger. Crying. I think my brain just broke. 

*******************

Sorry, I had to take a break for a minute or two to try to catch my sanity before it took a header off the cliff of Grams crying in front of a stranger. 

Anyway, turns out Grams maiden name was Black. Maria Black to be precise. And she was supposed to be a boy. Called Marius Black. Yeah, I'm apparently like third cousins once removed with the five Black children. Or something like that. So, we've got a nice trust vault in Gringotts as apparently the Blacks weren't completely rotten and set up a trust vault for any of her descendants that had magic. Petunia was wicked green when she found that out. A whole pile of real gold coins for me and Lils for school. Of course, it is a risk as it's the Blacks. They probably cursed it six ways to Sunday against any 'filthy half-breeds' or whatever. 

Thankfully, Professor McGonagall let us go shopping today for our school supplies so we won't be in suspense for ever.

"Professor, are you sure they will be alright with just the two of them?".

"I am sure, Mrs Evans."

"Yes, but there are two of them."

It takes a while, but the Professor finally manages to get us into the Leaky Cauldron's small back yard. She taps the stones and they slide and move to reveal the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen.

Diagon Alley was described pretty well in the books and movies, but they have nothing on the actual place. It is...astounding. There are no adequate words to describe it. 

The air hums with magic, many different melodies intertwining to create a marvellous harmony. Sevvie, Lils and I all have our own tunes, seperate, distinct and beautiful, but even when we are doing magic, it is nothing to the sound of the magic in Diagon. It's like comparing a toddler's rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to Handel's Messiah. 

And the smells, and the sights and the smells! I could drink it in for days. Unfortunately, the professor is quite immune to the charms of Diagon Alley and hustles us on through the crowds with alacrity, towards an imposing white marble building with distinct non-human architecture. 

Two goblins in red uniforms stand outside it, inclining their heads slightly to the professor's nod. Lils and I copy her, hoping that we did it right. The goblins don't seem offended, so I assume that we did. She sweeps us to a desk, requesting in a sharp, no-nonsense voice to be taken to vault 718, the trust vault from Gram's darling family. Apparently, the fandom got it right that goblins respect strength, for we are instantly validated and shown to a cart.

What. A. Ride. According to Lils, it was just perfect. I found it quite unnecessary. The twists and turns in the track were like a rollercoaster, and the only 'good' thing was that it ended quite soon. Only that meant that we had to face the possible curses on the vault. The door loomed cold and forbidding above us, sending a chill right to my bones. 

What would the Blacks do to those they deemed unworthy? 

Turns out, we didn't have to worry. A drop of blood on the key for each of us and no curses would affect us, at least that was what the goblin said. Neat. 

The door swung open, and all thoughts went out of my head. Well, and several more popped in. Number one, was 'holy shit that's a lot of money'. Then it was 'this is a trust vault', followed by 'why the fuck is there so much stuff' and 'so this is why the Blacks are filthy rich'. Basically, it was a room about the size of a regular classroom filled to bursting with coins, probably amounting to ahout three thousand Galleons at least. And some random other shit, like some jewellry and tapestries and an ominous looking chest with the name Maria Black inscribed on it in silver cursive. 

If this was the trust vault for possible non-Pureblooded descendants from a disowned and disgraced Squib, I did not want to see what a proper trust vault looked like, let alone the main one. 

I kind of lost interest in whatever McGonagall was saying afterwards. Something about the exchange rate and how the money worked, but hey Wizarding World, I knew it. And there was some really pretty jewellry. 

Talking of which..."Professor. Would you be able to shrink the chest for Grams so we can take it home for her?" She looked at me surprised. Perhaps she didn't know about Sevvie? Had Lils really not said so? 

"Miss Evans, how do you know about Shrinking?"

Oh in another world this is a hugely popular book series and I was a girl call Cathy Holt who died and was reincarnated in this stupid Mary Sue self-insert fic. "We have a friend called Severus Snape, and he and his Mum tell as about magic." She raises an eyebrow and then Shrinks the trunk, handing it to me as the older and most responsible one. 

"I suggest that you fill a money bag each and then continue your shopping, the goblin is getting impatient." 

Two hundred Galleons, another ride and several hours of shopping later, and the Professor is ushering us into Ollivanders. Madam Malkin's is the only shop left to go to. I am so excited. Ollivanders, magic wand, who cares if this is a cliche mary sue self insert fic, I am getting a wand!

The first thing that strikes me about the shop is that the movies did not get it right. It's not dusty at all, or old or creaky. The floorboards are shiny, the wands are each in their own little pigeon hole, the chair is very sturdy looking. Huh. There is a kind of whir, and Ollivander slids in on a ladder. Guess they got that much right. "Minerva McGonagall. Fir wood and dragon heartstring, 9 1/2 inches, stiff wasn't it." She nods curtly and introduces us.

"Ah the twins who are not twins. Yes, Albus showed me your accidental magic record, very very impressive."

"Our what?" Lily looks outraged that we have been spied on, but I am more interested in how. After all, it makes sense that they keep track of magical people outside of the community and track anything that could reveal it.

"Your accidental magic record. It's the magic record set to your signature, created automatically when you do your first accidental magic. Only the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the owner of Ollivanders are privy to it, and it self-destructs the minute you turn eleven." I think that it's rather clever. "Now, wands." Lily still looks outraged, probably something about infringement of privacy. She doesn't seen to get that this is another world. 

Eleven wands later, and Lily is paired with a wand that is willow and unicorn hair, ten and three-quarter inches and swishy, apparently for people with a hidden insecurity and suited to Charms work and healing.

I am slightly harder. After the fourteenth wand, Mr Ollivander looks into my eyes, probably Legilimensing me, which I can do nothing about, and then hums thoughtfully. "An old soul. I haven't seen one like you for years Miss Evans. Yes, this makes it a lot clearer." Apparently he will keep my secret. 

Finally, at the twenty-third wand, he hands me the right one. When my hand touches it, I can feel a sort of whoosh inside me, like it is clicking into place with something, and a sort of shiver runs through my whole body. Delicate silver light glows through the shop, emanating from it, and everything seems sort of otherworldly in it. The light fades and Mr Ollivander claps heartily. "Well done Miss Evans. Very good, very good. Vine and dragon heartstring, twelve and a half inches, bendy. Meant for people with hidden depths. I am very curious to see what you will do. Both of you in fact." We leave shortly after, heading for Madam Malkin's and robes.

Lily is ecstatic at the idea of real magic robes, just as she was about real magic books and cauldrons and sweets and everything else. Me, I'm more wary. The robes in the movies were shapeless and disgusting, like bathrobes, and I am not looking forward to wearing them. At all. Also, that was where Harry Potter met Draco Malfoy and kick started the whole rivalry. Hopefully, nothing like that will happen.

I do not seem to be lucky, for inside the shop is a boy with white-blond hair and icy blue eyes. Apparently it is an Evans trait to meet a Malfoy in the robe shop before first year. Well, he isn't a first year I know that much. He's way too tall and mature looking. Enter Lucius Malfoy.

The robes aren't actually that bad. For boys they are like surcoats worn over school uniform and for girls they are more like dresses. It seems that when you are Sorted, the robes automatically become the House's Primary colour trimmed with the Secondary colour. I like them a lot more than in the movies. Madam Malkin is fitting Lucius I-don't-know-his-name-yet Malfoy, and two assistants are fitting Lily and me. Lily is talking loudly to Profesdor McGonagall, Gryffindor brashness in full view (but she isn't a Gryffindor yet so I can't say so) and I'm just waiting and thinking.

"First year I take it." His voice is pleasant, but I am on my guard. After all, he is a Pureblood supremacist and a Slytherin through and through.

"Of course..." I trail off. It's not very subtle, but it's more subtle than most eleven year olds, or indeed thirteen year olds could manage. He smiles.

"Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, fifth year Slytherin prefect. My grandmother was Aphrodite Greengrass." So this is how we are doing it.

"Evans, Ianthe Evans, first year. My grandmother was Maria Black." I have often wondered about my mum's family's names. Perhaps they are a Squib line. His eyes widen a tiny increment before he composed himself and nods his head in the nearest thing to a bow he can manage while being fitted for robes.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Evans." I nd my head back.

"The pleasure is mine Mr Malfoy."

"Heir Malfoy actually." His correction is a lot more polite than I expected. Perhaps the fact that I have Black blood is the reason. Interesting, this is like a fanfic with the Heir and Heiress things in it.

"I'm sorry, Heir Malfoy. If you will pardon my asking, what does it mean?" McGonagall's head snaps around as she hears the words Heir Malfoy and her hand slides down to her pocket. Obviously, she has had trouble with him before. But he isn't offended outwardly. I am still wary though.

"It means that I am the Heir of the Most Ancient and Prosperous House of Malfoy. Have you not been taught of this?" His voice is a little cooler, but also curious. Not that I trust it.

"Our grandmother never told any of us about magic Heir Malfoy. We only learned that she was a Squib when the Professor came to give us our letters." I am not telling him about Sev. If the Sorting is the same, Sev will meet him anyway and so I am in no hurry. He seems surprised. I wonder why. I'm not a fucking savage you know.

"Really? You seem to have the manners of a Pureblood."

"Mum always said that it was polite Heir Malfoy." He seems rather too surprised that my Muggle mother taught me manners. Bloody supremacists. Literally.

"Ah, yes of course. Pardon my asking, you said 'our' grandmother?" Changing the subject. Rather obvious isn't he.

"Yes, I am one of three. My older sister doesn't have magic, and my younger sister is over there, talking with the professor." Perhaps a little too much information, but I am apparently eleven. It's allowed. He looks over and I can see his nose start to wrinkle. 

"You are not much alike." Is all he says and I choke back a laugh. Lily is hardly still, firing questions at McGonagall every second, her short fiery hair bouncing over her shoulders with every movement. In almost direct contrast, I am like a statue, carrying on polite conversation with him, blood-red hair held in a single long plait over my shoulder. 

The time in Madam Malkin's passes quickly, Lily bugging Professor McGonagall and Heir Malfoy and I quietly talking, our speech full of barbs and hints and quiet insults. It is very enjoyable, I haven't had a proper conversation since yesterday morning. My family is all very Gryffindor and Grams very taciturn. Sevvie is the only person at home who talks to me this way, and Heir Malfoy is a great conversationalist. Soon, we are finished. I am actually almost sad, but then I realise that that is probably the effect he was going for. So when he bows, I curtsey and then walk away. 

Once at home, Lils and I flop down in bed, exhausted. It has been a very long day, but I have a potential ally and Hogwarts supplies and about one and a half thousands Galleons. Yeah, pretty good for one day's work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.  
> Updates are going to be more infrequent now, as the parents have limited my phone time severely.  
> In the meantime, kudos and comments are appreciated.  
> And if you guys would consider looking at my othet stories, that would be awesome.


	5. Meet The Blacks (Oh Shit I'm Dead, Except Wait I'm Actually Not)

**_Dear Maria,_ **

**_We do not know when you will read this, or even if you will be alive when it is finally read. If you are, we are so sorry. There is no excuse for abandoning our child so cruelly, and if we could change one thing in our lives, it would be that. This will not ease the pain Maria, but know that had we had any other choice, we would have taken it._**

**_We are not making excuses darling, we know that there is no way our choice can be excused. We were weak, and you paid the price. Your grandparents, Phineas and Ursula, decided in their twisted and cruel logic that life without magic is not worth living. They were planning to kill you. We only just managed to persuade them to disown you instead, to place you with a good Muggle family. No matter how cruel it was to disown a child, no matter how much you hate us, you are alive Maria. And that is all that matters to us. The vault is yours and your descendants, to do as you will with, unattached to the main vault, so that the Head of House Black cannot take it away._ **

**_We hoped so much to live to see your descendants return to our world, to apologise in person. But time has run away with us Maria, and we have not been able to find you, no matter how hard we searched. And so, as our lives draw to a close and all our children but one are near, we write this for you, to give you our love and apologies._ **

**_Maria, know this - we love you, so much, more than anything. We would never have let Phineas and Ursula kill you as long as we had breath in our bodies, no matter how weak we are. Your siblings have promised to wait for the vault to be activated, and then please visit them Maria. Two days after the vault is activated, they will be waiting in the family sitting room of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, at two in the afternoon. They miss you so much, as do we._**

**_With all our love darling,_ **

**_Cygnus and Violetta Black,_**

**_or if you will allow us this title one last time,_ **

**_Mother and Father_ **

Grams has tears streaming down her face as she finishes reading. I don't blame her - finding that the parents you thought hated and abandoned you actually were all that stood between you and death, and then about their death is a bit of an emotional roller coaster. She looks at the chest holding letters and gifts from her parents and siblings and back at the space on the parchment that asks her to visit them, slowly, longingly.

"You should go Grams. Your parents loved you, and they would have loved to see all their children together again. And... it would be good to finally have closure." I may have a slight ulterior motive for this - if I meet the Blacks, then I might be able to reveal Walburga's abuse of her sons. Like I'm sorry, but there is no way that they were not abused. And if she isn't abusing them, I will get to see the Blacks anyway. Win win. This is made easier by the fact that I've always been the closest of the three children to Grams, the one who hears her stories, spends hours talking to her and learning from her. Lils doesn't have the patience, and Petunia, I am sorry to say, does not get on with her at all. The revelation that Grams knows about magic and loves it, is in favour of the freakiness, has just soured her against Grams even further.

"Why should she? They got rid of her didn't they? Because she wasn't a freak. Why would she want to go back to the freaks? It's not like she is a freak." Her voice, as usual, is shrill, cruel and biting. 

"Petunia!" Mum is shocked. "Don't speak to your grandmother like that "

"Go to your room, and remember you are not too old to be grounded." Dad intervenes and Petunia flounces upstairs, slamming the door behind her. I turn back to Grams and find her silver eyes are focused on me, thoughtfully. 

"Yes...I will go. Tomorrow. No, don't argue Pluto, I won't be alone. I will take Ianthe with me." That is all there is to it.

So the next day, after meeting Sev and regaling him with our adventures, and boy was he mad that he was left out, we are on the train to London. Grams is sitting ramrod straight, the unease with public transport I used to put down to WWII, but apparently it is just the general difficulty of the magic-raised (well, until she was 11) with all things electric. Her white hair perfectly coiffed, and she is wearing a neat patterned dress, shiny black shoes and a white jacket. Grams has always been polished and perfect, apparently from her upbringing as a child of the House of Black.

Lils is a tomboy and Petunia is 'trendy' (1970s trends, ewww) but I am the only one of Grams grandchildren who has the same taste as her. I'm wearing a green dress with capped sleeves and white trimming, my hair in one long plait tied with a green ribbon. Grams says that it is to bring out my eyes, but I can see her fiddling with her clutch, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening. She is so worried about how this will turn out, the first time that she has seen any of her family in forty-three years, desperate to make a good impression on them. So, I try to distract her.

"Grams?" Yes, she is definitely worried, she started when I spoke.

""Yes, Ianthe?" I am ninety-five percent sure that I am the only person in the household who remembers that my full name is Iolanthe.

"Why did you pick me?"

"Why, whatever do you mean child?"

"You could have taken Dad, who is your oldest son. You could have taken Petunia, who is your oldest granddaughter. You could have taken Lils who is the brightest and most shining. You could have taken all of us. You could have taken no one. So why did you take me?" There was no stipulation for her to bring anyone with her after all.

"Because, much as I love your father, neither he nor Petunia have magic."

"So why didn't you take Lily? And you don't have magic either, so why does it matter."

"Taking a descendant of mine to visit them who does not have magic when there is proof that I have at least one descendant with magic is just..." Grams pauses, shuddering delicately, "tacky. It isn't good manners at all Ianthe."

"So why didn't you take Lils?"

Grams smiles, a sort of exasperated huff, and shakes her head. "Ianthe, as much as I love your sister, she is too well, Gryffindor, for them. Especially on first meeting. She is bright Ianthe, bright and obvious and brazen. Lily is more like a Weasley than anyone with Black blood in their veins. She is about as tactful as a rampaging Hippogriff." Well, Grams has always seemed a bit shocked by Lily's behaviour. More Black upbringing.

"And me? Why did you not just come alone Grams?"

A soft smile illuminates Grams face and she turns to look at me fully. "I brought you, because you have my blood Ianthe, Black blood. No, not your outward appearance. Your character, your mannerisms. Lily rushes headlong into things, using her heart rather than her head, but you, you watch from the shadows, planning and observing, and when you are ready, you strike, to far more effect. I think that you would find this visit...educational." So, Grams thinks I would be a Slytherin does she? Well, I am flattered. Then I remember, Hippogriffs and Hogwarts Houses are not things I should know about.

"Grams, you said Lily is as tactful as a rampaging Hippogriff. What's a Hippogriff? And what is a Gryffindor?"

"A Hippogriff is a beautiful magical creature, part horse, part eagle. They were my favourite animals as a child you know. I used to imagine soaring across the skies on them. My parents arranged for a visit to a Hippogriff breeder when I was nine, and I managed to fly one called Witherwings." She trails off, lost in happy memories. At that moment, I understand how hard it must have been for her, growing up in all of the beauty and wonder of magic, and then being thrown into the drab greyness that is the muggle world. 

"And a Gryffindor Grams?" I eventually prompt ten minutes later. She blinks and launches into an explanation.

"Hogwarts is divided into four Houses, surely the teacher told you this?" I shake my head, she probably did but I was very distracted and Grams could use the distraction. "Well, anyway, they are Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor." There is a definite nose-wrinkle when she says Gryffindor. I wonder if disdain for Gryffindor has been bred into the Blacks and it just skipped Sirius. "Gryffindor is allegedly the House for the noble, brave and daring, but according to the stories from my childhood, they are, for the most part, the house of the musclebound idiots."

"I though you said Lily was a Gryffindor? And how do you know what House you are in?"

"I said for the most part Ianthe. Hufflepuff is for the hard-working and loyal, but they seemed to have been the most easy to walk over. Cousin Arcturus was dating a Hufflepuff as I recall, something Macmillan. Millicent or maybe Melanie. I'm not sure any more. She was...sweet and meek, not at all appropriate for the wife of a future Lord Black. Ravenclaw was for those of wit and learning, and several Blacks have been sorted there. But Slytherin has been the Alma Mater for most of the House of Black. The house of cunning, resourcefulness and leadership. I think you would do well there Ianthe."

The rest of the train journey passes so, in conversation about Grams' world and the people and things in it. She has a much nore thorough understanding than Sev. Probably because she was brought up a Scion of the House of Black, rather than a muggle who just happened to have Prince blood. Finally, we reach London and Grams hires a taxi to take us to Grimmauld Place. I am so excited! I am finally going to meet the freaking Blacks! In freaking Grimmauld Place! My inward fangirling is so loud I do not understand how Grams does not hear it. 

The taxi seems to be the slowest one I have ever been in, moving at about three miles an hour. It isn't, I can see the speedometer pointing at 20 the entire time. But no matter how nervous I am, it has nothing on Grams. Her face gets slowly paler and more wrinkled as we creep closer and closer to our destination. By the time that we reach the square, she is practically a white walnut. I thank the driver and pay him with a random handful of notes from Grams clutch bag. He drives off as soon as we are out of his taxi, obviously feeling the unfriendly aura, especially towards Muggles. Grams is frozen, staring up at the gap between number 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place. "Grams. Grams. Come on." I say, slipping my hand into hers, and tugging lightly. It seems to remind her why she came, and she walks purposfully up to the gap. The movies did not do this place justice. Number 12 Grimmauld Place is a rundown old townhouse, but a veritable mansion. It blooms into existence, seven stories high, and three times as wide as any of the other houses in the square. The front shines in the light, black stone comprising the entire building, with carvings of ebony and jet on the windows and the double doors. Grams glides up the stairs, and the heavy jet knocker hits the door three times. The sound echoes amd rebounds and then falls silent. The door creaks open revealing my first house elf, a little thing no taller than my waist, with batlike ears and huge shining eyes, wearing a black toga with the Black crest embroidered on it in silver thread. Grams gasps softly and I think she would almost start crying if she was alone. Tears are definitely glistening in her eyes.

"Missy Maria is finally home! Ditzy has missed her Missy Maria!" The house elf's voice is high and shrill. "Missy Maria must come in, Missies Cassie and Dory and Master Polly are waiting for Missy Maria." I am ninety-percent certain that if we weren't one minute before two, Ditzy would say a lot more. As it is, she ushers us in and closes the door swiftly, before bustling up the stairs. 

The movies didn't do justice to Grimmauld Place. It isn't grim and old and dusty, but even if it was, it would be totally different. The corridors are wide and open, with sweeping staircases and plenty of light. Portraits placed along the wall cry out and call Grams' name as she passes them, her head held high. I hear at least one derogatory 'Squib' but so many more glad welcomes that I am not even sure I heard it. Grams was loved here, I know that much. 

Finally, Ditzy pauses outside a door, clicking her fingers to open it. Inside are three people who spring to their feet and stare, tears springing to their eyes. Two women and a man. One woman has a kind face with wide brown eyes and wavy salt-and-pepper hair, one hand pressed to her mouth as she shakes with sobs. The other woman has iron grey hair and eyes and a rigidly upright posture, as if she does not want to let her emotions known. The man has mercurial silver eyes and wavy white hair and looks almost exactly like a male version of Grams. All three of them have the same features as her, and looking between them, I realise that she too has tears in her eyes. No one seems willing to move, Grams siblings waiting for her to make the first move and Grams herself frozen. Finally, she steps over the threshold of the room, her head held high, and that seems to release the spell on them for they rush towards her, grabbing her in a fierce embrace. I stand awkwardly in the threshold, waiting for my cue, although I am quite content to watch my Grams and her siblings. She seems truly happy for possibly the first time ever and I am glad.

Eventually though, she ends the hug and beckons me over. "Cassy, Dory, Pol, this is my granddaughter, Ianthe Evans who was recently accepted to Hogwarts. Ianthe, these are my siblings. Cassiopeia Black, Pollux Black and Dorea Potter." I curtsey politely.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Madam Black, Master Black, Madam Potter." Various cooing noises come from Grams sisters, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Honestly, a few manners and you are suddenly the most adorable thing since fluffy kittens.

"You must call me Aunt Cassiopeia Ianthe."

"Call me Aunt Dorea darling."

Even Pollux Black succumbs and I am pretty sure that he has five grandchildren.

"Master Black makes me feel old, call me Uncle Pollux Ianthe." I nod and curtsey again.

"Then I will, Aunt Cassiopeia, Aunt Dorea, Uncle Pollux." Grams smiles and places her hand on my shoulder.

"Well done Ianthe. You have taken to this remarkably well." I beam up at her. Somehow, any praise from Grams is much sweeter than any from my parents or my teachers, or anyone really. 

"Thank you Grams." And cue the cooing. Honestly. I only just catch myself from rolling my eyes this time. They lead us over to the sofas where tea and cakes are laid out on beautiful black china emblazoned with the Black crest. Seriously, that crest is on everything. 

The tea is great, but the cakes have nuts in them so I have to avoid half of them. Finally, we are finished and just talking again. It is then that I spot it. A tapestry depicting the entire Black family. Grams spots me looking and smiles wistfully.

"That's the Black family tapestry. It shows everyone ever born into the family on it. Unless they are disowned of course. That's what the burnt spots are." I find where Grams used to be easily. It's the lowest burnt spot on the tapestry. 

"It doesn't show anyone born to a disowned person either." A new voice interjects, and we all whirl to find another man leaning against the doorframe. He is tall and handsome, with grey eyes and salt-and-pepper hair and a ring on his finger. Arcturus Black, Lord of the Black family.

"Arcturus!" Grams gasps.

"Maria. It's been a long time. And who is this charming young lady?"

"Ianthe Evans Lord Black." I reply, curtseying deeper than I did to Grams siblings. His smirk widens and he stands up properly. 

"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Evans. I assume that you are Maria's granddaughter."

"Yes sir." I answer and he ruffles my hair smiling at Grams.

"Call me Uncle Arcturus Ianthe. She is a credit to you Maria." Grams smiles at me.

"She is indeed." Then he engages the adults in a long and weighty conversation that I take no interest in. I don't have to because I am only just eleven. Ah the freedom of youth. I drift over to the tapestry and try to find anyone at Hogwarts at the moment. Then I hear voices outside, and four children race in giggling. They slam the door and lean against it, listening to someone's angry steps go past. Unfortunately, the adults have put up a silencing ward so I cannot hear their Very Important Conversation. It's probably about Grams being undisowned? reowned? whatever the proper term is anyway. And they haven't seen the children, so I am basically stuck with four strangers.

"Did you see her face?"

"Never mind her face, did you see her hair?"

"She's going to be so mad at us."

"Well Aunt Walburga is mean, so she deserves it."

"Yea- who are you?" The wild haired girl who speaks to me is one of two who seem my own age and her tone isn't antagonistic (yet), merely surprised.

"I'm Ianthe Evans. And you are?"

"I'm Bellatrix Black."

"I'm Sirius Black."

"I'm Regulus Black."

"I'm Narcissa Black, but everyone calls me Cissy." 

"Cissy," Bellatrix hisses, "you can't just tell someone you can call them your nickname when you barely know them." Then, louder. "This isn't your home you know. And your name, Evans. That's a Mudblood name. What is a Mudblood doing here? Do you even have magic? "

"I do have magic. I recieved my Hogwarts letter two days ago." I reply coolly. "I'm here because my grandmother wanted me to come when she met her siblings. That's her, over there, the one who looks like Uncle Pollux."

"No, he's Granddad." Narcissa corrects me.

"No, not for me he isn't.'' Apparently the fact that my grandmother is here means that I am not-a-Mudblood enough to be friends with them. We end up sitting in front of the tapestry and playing Who-Can-Spot-So-And-So. It's a remarkably fun game, even if my co-players have probably played it a thousand times before. I still hold my own thankfully, being ahead of eight-year-old Regulus by three points by the time the grownups fiish their discussion. They come over just as Bellatrix has us all stumped with Isla Black. 

"You can't find her because she was disowned. She's one of the burnt spots...that one up there." Grams interjects. She is quicly introduced, and all four of my new friends are envious of my nice Grams. Uncle Pollux and Uncle Arcturus feign offence and hurt, but I can see by the twinkling in their eyes that they are just glad that their grandchildren accept Grams so easily. 

Then, Uncle Arcturus performs the most marvellous piece of magic I have ever seen. Not that that is saying much, but still. The four Black children are impressed so I assume it isn't commonplace. The burnt spot that was Grams repairs itself to reveal a small portrait of Grams and a double line linking her to Harold Evans, my Gramps who died before I was born. Two lines from them lead to Dad and my Aunt Sephie respectively. Aunt Sephie is a world travelling journalist, right now she is in Australia for an article on the dropping numbers of koala bears. Dad is linked to Mum, and then three lines lead to Petunia, me and Lily. It is beautiful magic, and Bellatrix, Sirius, Regulus and Narcissa agree. 

The door bangs open again, and a woman with a kind of screwed up face storms in. "Where are they? Where are the little brats!" She fumes, and I suppose if they had anything to with why her black hair is sticking up like she's been struck by lightening and her skin is green, she has reason to be mad. 

"Walburga, calm down." Uncle Pollux snaps.

"I will not calm down! They have made a mockery of me!" She looks quite demented and I feel for my cousins who have to put up with her. She rants on and on until Uncle Arcturus places a Silencing Charm on her and sends her out. Lovely woman. Charming in fact. 

Then I see Regulus rubbing his arm and trembling. "Hey Reggie, what's wrong with your arm?" He shies away, but the 'damage' is done. Uncle Arcturus gently grabs him and picks him up. Aunt Cassiopeia slides his arm up revealing a bruise shaped exactly like Walburga's hand on his arm. The room goes deathly quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marius Black was the third child of Cygnus Black II and Violetta Bulstrode, and brother of Pollux Black, Cassiopeia Black, and Dorea Black.  
> I have Maria (Marius whatever) being born in 1917, her parents dying in 1943 and so she is 54 right now.  
> She was 20 when her son was born and he was 22 when Petunia was born.  
> Don't ask me to do Cadmia's timeline yet please if you value my sanity at all. I've done enough maths today to get the Black side of the family right.
> 
> Sorry for the shitty quality, I've not been sleeping well lately and it is showing in my work.


	6. More Insanity, Because What We Already Had Wasn't Enough

You know how people say the temperature drops when someone is angry? Well apparently, when you are in a house full of wizards, that is an actual thing. As in ice crystals are spreading across the floor and people's breath is becoming visible. 

I wonder briefly if I have done the wrong thing by revealing Walburga's abuse at this stage, but I decide that leaving two little boys in a physically abusive household while knowing what was going is more than morally challenged, but downright evil, and I am fine with morally challenged, but not with evil. Children are one of the few things that are worth protecting, even spoilt bitches like Petunia.

Uncle Arcturus is actually shaking with rage. It is fucking terrifying to be perfectly honest. Uncle Pollux and Aunt Cassiopeia are white with rage, and Aunt Dorea has gone a sickly shade of grey. Grams is the only one of the adults not currently motionless and doing a very good impression of Elsa. She has gone over to Sirius and is checking him over, whispering encouragements and sympathies to him. I'll be the first to admit I am slightly jealous of him - Grams is my Grams after all. Then I see little Reggie shivering as Uncle Arcturus held him, and I am faced with a very very big dilemma. Do I go and get a nine year old kid from his overprotective grandfather to calm both down or leave said kid with said grandfather. Reggie catches my eye and I literally melt. I barely know the kid and I'm wrapped around his little finger. I almost creep forward and gently pull down Reggie from the statue that is his grandfather. Uncle Arcturus barely seems to notice, his entire being focused on the damning dark blue and purple bruise on little Reggie's arm. 

***************

Yeah, so turns out none of the Blacks trust each other with the kids. Considering that all five kids have the same grandparents - Uncle Arcturus, Aunt Melania (I don't see Grams's problem with her, she's lovely), Uncle Pollux and Madam Irma (stuck up bitch, no wonder Walburga turned out so bad, I feel so sorry for Uncle Pollux being stuck with her), I don't blame them. If Walburga started lashing out on her kids, what's to say her sister Druella won't. Apparently Orion and Cygnus don't count as they spend 80 percent of the time off on business trips, but still. Aunt Cassiopeia flat out refused to look after five children on her own (yeah, Andromeda exists, it was a shock to me too because no one had mentioned her). Honestly cannot blame her at all. Aunt Dorea is ready to take them, but her brother-in-law Lord Fleamont "Light Wizard and anti-Dark bigot extraordinaire" Potter refuses to have five children with the name Black under his roof. And don't get me started on the grandparents. Uncle Pollux refuses on the grounds of "have you met Irma'' which I think covers it quite nicely. Uncle Arcturus and Aunt Melania would, but there is the whole problem with the fact that the grandparents all live in the same house as Walburga and Druella. They considered asking Alphard, which shows exactly how desperate they were. I mean, have you met the guy? I haven't exactly, but the kids have told me stories. Suffice to say, I know where Sirius got his whole 'constantly almost dangerously high, smoking, leather jacket, tattoes' persona.

Guess who's left. The first two guesses don't count. Yep, Grams. Well, technically me and Grams, but same difference. So....after a brief phone call over the nearest public phone to home, instead of me and Grams going home by Muggle train, my five new cousins, Grams and me are gathered around a Portkey that used to be Madam Irma's comb (don't look at me like that, Uncle Pollux suggested it).

I know, completely crazy right. I'm seriously considering just giving up and going all Bellatrix Lestrange because just associating with the Blacks for one day has pretty much permanently ruined my already near non existent sanity. Then it hits me. Petunia. Mum and Dad were fine with five extra kids from Grams's family coming to our house for about a month because they are like the Muggle version of Mr and Mrs Weasley only with a lot more money, and Lily is ecstatic to meet some new cousins as cousin Hazel is constantly off with Aunt Sephie on world trips and five cousins coming to stay is like heaven for the sociable Lily. But Petunia...five strange kids with magic just randomly being inserted into her life. I doubt that she will care that they are coming to get away from a very abusive household, I mean, just look at what she and her husband did to Harry. In fact, I'm ninety-nine percent certain that she will loathe them and try to make their lives miserable. 

Now, before you form your own opinions about how the Black kids look (everyone is entitled to their opinion, but wait for the basic facts, please), give me a second to describe them. Oh joy. Description time. The part that I always dreaded for the cliche "hair as black as night", "white skin'', "very beautiful" and other very very very much overused phrases. 

First is Andromeda, but she's told me to call her Andi. Andi is very pretty, they all are actually. Cliche I know, but think about it. They live in a world of magic, physical imperfections can be corrected right down to your genes so that the imperfections are no longer there in the DNA to be passed on. This means that the 'purer' someone's blood, the less imperfections are likely to be present. Magic. Anyway, Andi. Long, soft waves of hair literally mahogany colour. Such an overused phrase, but really apt in her case. For real, her hair and eyes are the _exact_ same warm golden brown as the mahogany table. Her skin is really tanned as well, almost the same colour. Apparently she is obsessed with sports, so plays Quidditch almost religiously and swims in the Black Lake every day that is warm enough. I know, crazy right? Although it would be good training... Anyway, Andi is lovely, as warm and soft as her appearance indicates, although she does have a rather fearsome Slytherin side that makes an appearance when someone she loves is threatened. Honestly, I have no idea how she wasn't in Hufflepuff.

Narcissa or Cissa is next. She's going into third year, and quite possibly the most gorgeous girl I have ever seen, including airbrushed pictures of models from magazines as Cathy. Long dark gold hair, huge sapphire eyes and skin with (I kid you not) an actuall silvery sheen. She looks like someone took a bunch of precious metals and gems and made them into a beautiful, living, breathing girl. It's quite intimidating actually, but once you get past her prickly outer shell she's fierce, kind and possesive of those she considers hers, almost scarily protective.

Next in age is Bellatrix, though she told me to call her Trix, one month younger than me, with tanned skin and sparkling dark blue eyes. The books say she has wild black hair, but they underestimated. Saying Trix's hair is wild is like saying World War Two was bad - technically true, but majorly underselling it. Trix's hair literally stands up from her head in jet black dreadlocks. It's quite impressive that she's gone this long without having it magically "fixed". I mean, the Wizarding World is obsessed with physical perfection - they learn how to change their appearance at age sixteen/seventeen for Merlin's sake. Trix is like my new best friend. She's funny and sarcastic and clever and the tiniest but homicidally insane. 

Sirius is next, the December after Trix. May I say he is a prick. His reaction to how his mother treated him is to be the exact opposite from his family. Proud of being a pureblood? Disdain for heritage, like outright loathes it. Polite? Forget it, and his table manners....I want to throw up. Neat? He looks like a kid someone picked off the streets. Somehow he managed to shave his head, so he has a fine fuzz of black hair a couple of centimetres long around his face, which looks rather too long and sharp with so little hair. I guess he's reasonably okay, but the fact that I volunteered to visit the Blacks and studied (read: grilled Sevvie and Eileen) Pureblood etiquette on my own makes me one of his less favourite cousins.

Reggie is last, the youngest by two years at nine. He's got huge silvery eyes and jet black hair and is literally the most adorable kid I have ever seen apart from Lils. He's really quiet and shy, and is fiercely clingy to those he is close to, which will probably translate to very very strong loyalty when he gets older.

The Portkey whirls us off our feet and it is soooo uncomfortable. Like. Throw up and faint uncomfortable. As we are whirling through space, another realisation hits me. Sevvie. Five more magical children are suddenly in the area _and_ they are related to me and Lils _and_ one of them is Sirius.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Is basically my thought process for the next ten minutes as I land sprawling on my front from the Portkey, stand up, dust myself off, hug Lils, Mum and Dad, ignore Petunia and introduce the cousins before Mum and Dad go off to set up the spare room for the boys and kit out Lily and my room with three extra beds for the newcomers. Sirius is glued to the TV the moment I turn it on, even though it is crap because it is a fucking 70s TV and I was killed in 2019, I had a flat-screen TV with comparatively unlimited channels and good quality sound and image. I'm also fucking annoyed a decade after my death because I died on the 21st of November 2019, the day before Frozen 2 came out. It's now 1971. I've waited ten years instead of a day, and I still have to wait another forty-eight years to watch it. Don't judge me, yes I was twenty-four and watching Frozen, who hasn't watched Frozen at least once.

Anyway, rant over. Reggie and Cissa are most intruiged by the books and Bella is peppering me with questions about everything. Andi is meeting Lils and keeping an eye on Sirius so that he doesn't break anything. Petunia has stormed off to her room, but nothing else untoward has happened. I allow myself to relax.

Then Sevvie storms in, wiping blood from a cut above his eyes and I curse inwardly. Of course I jinxed myself.

He notices the additions immediately, and I can see him close off. "Sev? Are you alright?" Lils beats me to it, her voice filled with genuine concern. Sev nods briefly.

"Just...fell. Onto the cabinet. Came to ask Cadmia if she had any plasters, we're all out." In Sev speak, this meant his father had come home drunk at six in the evening, lashed out and Sev had ended up cutting his forehead on something sharp. Eileen's potions and salves had broken or used up so he had come to get some from the stockpile they hd been amassing at ours.

"What do you need? Blood replenishers, pain?" Lils is terrible with first aid, but I am only slightly better. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Mum and Dad had always handled first aid for Sevvie and Eileen.

Thank goodness for Andi is all I can say. She takes one look at Sevvie and, no questions asked, rattled off a list of potions and salves we needed. Trix and Cissa amused Reggie and Sirius (Sirius definitely needed amusement more than anyone else) while Andi fixed Sevvie up in five minutes flat before taking charge admirably.

By the time Mum and Dad came back down, Sevvie had been introduced to everyone and they liked him, except Sirius but I had had not hopes for that friendship anyway. We were all sat in front of the crappy 1970s TV watching Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory which had come out about a month ago. We were just at the first time the Oompa-Loompas came on, and Reggie immediately squealed "what did he do to the House Elves!" Everyone laughed.

I guess it wasn't so bad after all. Yet. I'm not jinxing it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY IMPORTANT!!!!!  
> Please comment whether you want Ianthe in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. The house with the most votes before I write the Sorting ceremony wins (duh) and I will follow that house's storyline as I have one planned for Ravenclaw and one for Slytherin and cannot decide which would be better. Thank you very much.
> 
> Just to clear up any confusion:  
> I see Andromeda as older than any of the other kids (going into sixth year) - old enough to start disdaining 'childish games' (and also busy writing to her secret Muggleborn Hufflepuff boyfriend), so she didn't appear last chapter. She is now here and no it was not an oversight last chapter, even if it looked like it
> 
> And I know that all of their ages are all out of wack in this, but bear with me.
> 
> And sorry, that was a really crap chapter.


	7. Challenging Beliefs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit it's been forever! So sorry guys.

"Why are the fairies arguing over whether her dress is pink or blue? Are they even fairies?" Sirius was fascinated by the movies, as were the rest of the cousins. We've just finished our second movie Sleeping Beauty, which has generated as many questions as the movie adaptation of Charlie and the Chocolate factory. 

"Well, I assume that the colours were very important to them." Poor Andi has had to to and answer _everyone_ 's questions, which really is totally unfair. She is just as new to the Muggle world as the rest of my Black cousins. She is doing very well though I must say.

"But are they really fairies?" Andi looks lost and I jump in.

"No, Muggles just got the wrong end of the stick. To be honest, they do a lot of the time. That's why our fairy tales are so weird by Muggle standards." Andi shoots a grateful look at me and I grin. It feels nice to have such a large family all of a sudden. I love my family, but we are basically me, Lils, my parents and Grams. Aunt Sephie and Cousin Hazel flit in and out of our lives, never staying for more than a couple of weeks - the longest was a month. Cathy had a huge family, with nearly a hundred people at family get to togethers, and everyone knew each other. I have missed that...quite a lot actually. Five cousins randomly invading my house feels a lot like Cathy. I am a little homesick for my previous life to be honest. 

"Is that because of the Statue of Secrecy?" And there is Lils with her insatiable curiosity, Harry had to get it from somewhere after all. 

"Well...I suppose so. Mother and Father always spoke of Muggles as stupid and slow, but seeing your parents....I can't think the same thing." Andi speaks slowly, as though she is trying to figure something out. She is really open minded, always eager to try new things. Cissa is interested as well, and so is Reggie. Sirius just messes with everything and Trix has thrown herself headlong into the Muggle world. As she does, I think, with everything. 

"They aren't. Maybe our parents got the wrong end of the stick too." Cissa's comment creates a sort of uncomfortable wondering among the cousins.

"But they're our parents. Surely they must be right.'' Trix's uncomfortable comment silences us all, and we sit watching the credits roll with a sort of pensive quietness. 

"Unless the credits are much more fascinating and nutritionally sustaining than I remember, I think that you children might like to come and have dinner now." Mum pops her head in, smiling quietly. I love my new Mum. She's completely unflappable, taking everything in her stride with an almost disdainful grace. If she gets angry, it is fucking terrifying - I can almost see sparks in her hair sometimes. 

We all troop into the dining room, sitting down around the large circular table. If I didn't know better, I would swear that Mum and Dad used magic, because how else would twelve people fit around our table, large as it is. Petunia, Dad and Grams are already sitting down, Dad with a sort of bemused curiosity, Grams as regal and proud as ever and Petunia sulky and shooting poisonous glares at the Blacks. 

She is quickly introduced to our new cousins, and thankfully she only sniffs and nods curtly to them. Sirius is immediately offended and doesn't respond when Mum introduces her. Andi and Cissa and Reggie are a little hurt and thrown off by her rudeness, and Trix is just curious. "Ianthe."

"Yeah."

"What's wrong with your sister."

"She doesn't like magic."

"Like at all?"

"At all."

"Cool!" Okay...that was not the reaction I was expecting. Our whispered exchange went unnoticed until Trix's exclamation and now everyone is staring at us. I blush a little.

Oh, I was just explaining to Trix that my older sister loathes magic and everyone who uses it considering them freaks. "I was just explaining to Trix how the oven worked." Thankfully they take the explanation at face value and everyone sits down to eat. 

Mum and Dad are brilliant cooks. Like amazing. They take turns cooking, and I think Dad cooked today. Roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, mash, roast potatoes, peas and thick steaming gravy. My favourite. Apparently our cousins like it too, digging in quite happily. It's been Sev's favourite for a while as well...oh yeah, Sev never went home. Its kind of weird that way - we just forget to send Sev home sometimes. Or Lily sits on him and refuses to let him go. That works too. I think today was a case of just clean forgettting that Sev isn't an Evans. 

***************

"Ianthe. Are you awake?"

I groan and surface from my almost but not quite asleep state. "What." 

Trix's voice is hesitant, her whisper almost inaudible. "Your parents."

"What about them?"

"They...they love you." I roll over completely, facing her square on. Or as much as you can when you are both lying on your side in bed.

"Yes. They do. Why?"

She bites her lip and appears to be struggling to voice what she said. "I...my parents...I don't think they love me. I'm the third girl, the last disappointment. They barely acknowledge me at the best of times...I thought it was normal, that daughters were always treated so. But...Aunt Cadmia and Uncle Pluto...they have three daughters, and they love you. So much. And, they're Muggles, and I've been taught that they're inferior. But if they show more love and kindness...Ianthe...were they, my parents I mean...wrong?" It is so hard not to start cackling when I hear Bellatrix Lestrange, Pureblood bigot extraordinaire, one of the Dark Lord Voldemort's highest lieutenants, questioning whether or not blood purity is valid. 

"Well...my parents get things wrong. Every one does sometimes, even parents. But...well, my mum and dad...they are really nice and kind. And I don't want to look down on them just because they don't have magic. I don't think magic matters. Look at Walburga, and look at my mum. By believing that magic makes you better, Walburga is therefore a better person than Mum. But she isn't."

Trix hums before turning back over. I fall asleep long before she does, and I can hear her whispering to herself well into the night. 

**************

"Ouch!"

"Sorry Andi." She grins and waves it off. 

"Why? That was brilliant! Come on, hit me again!" 

Yeah, your probably wondering what the heck that was about. Not that I'd blame you. Turns out Andi is highly fascinated by Muggle hand to hand fighting. So, as a child prodigy in it, I obviously have to teach it to her. Or that is her reasoning. Whatever. 

All of my cousins are fascinated by the Muggle world. Andi by the sports, Cissa by the beauty products and magazins, Trix by the books, Sirius by the vehicles (particularly the motorcycles) and Reggie by everything around him, but particularly my parents.

Sevvie comes over every now and again, as does Eileen, and my cousins originally were confused about our highly informal and complicated arrangement with them, but now accept it just as part of life. It's November, and the sky is heavy with snow. 

Sometimes my mind wanders to Heir Malfoy, wondering just how much I have changed his and Cissa's relationship by my actions so far. If I can't be Draco Malfoy _and_ Harry Potter's cool aunt, I will be very very annoyed. 

Crash! 

Huh, Andi is really getting good at this. "Andi, don't augment your punches with magic, it's not strong enough for that." She does it again, and the result is still pretty impressive. 

"Girls! Lunchtime! And then get ready for our trip to the zoo." I grin and race my cousin up the stairs from the cellar where my (and now Andi's) gym has been set up. Of course, Andi wins the race because she is so much older and has longer legs, but I'm still pretty fast for my age. 

We settle into the table and Trix promptly dumps her carrots on my plate. Petunia huffs and Mum looks sharply at her. I make very very sure to hide my smirk - Petunia hates having eight Magical children in the house. Pity that she can't help it. 

Ah yes, life is very good right now. Especially because my new best friend is Trix. Lils is getting closer to Sevvie by the day, but Trix is brilliant. Like Sevvie with less...grump and more insane. I silently promise myself that _none_ of my cousins will be bound to an egomanical madman, let alone my favourite cousin. 


End file.
